On Thursday, April 18th, I embark on a journey from 58 Stoke Newington Rd to Kingsland Rd in Dalston, tightly clutching a pair of pre-loved jeans wrapped meticulously in a lead-coloured medium parcel bag, braving the spitting rain and relentless gusts of wind.

In this little life, I have often experienced moments of regret - for the decisions I’ve taken and the ones that I haven’t, for the foods I have eaten and others that I have not yet tasted because they are different from what I grew up with. Regretting giving my heart to the people who I knew didn’t want it or taking others for granted. This little life we all share with each other, as I grow older, appears to be too rich on regrets, for people often blame themselves for things they have done or failed to do.

Earlier this week, while on my train journey towards the National Portrait Gallery, I read an *article in a magazine about second-hand fashion. Though it appeared to be an ordinary Monday, the moment felt quite cinematic from my perspective as the morning sunbeams streamed through the windows and warmed my fingers while I held the magazine.

Two weeks ago, I made the decision to run a half-marathon. There I said it. It’s officially on the internet, so there is no turning back now. You all know about it, if I don’t complete the Hackney Half on May 19, 2024, it would be.. very embarrassing for me. Therefore, if that happens, I give everyone permission to unsubscribe from my column.

If you knew that tomorrow would be the last day to feel the cold winter air pinch your cheeks and fill your lungs - would you be able to say you’ve lived a life where you’ve pushed yourself to step outside of your comfort zone, creating space for both personal and life growth? A life where you’ve taken risks and embraced challenges with open arms rather than defensively?

Some things are a mystery. Trust God.

I used to often experience moments of doubt about whether God existed or not - I still do. Although such moments have become less frequent now, and I’ve found my way of believing in God, once the taste of dubiety has spilt over one’s lips, it’s difficult to wipe it off and forget about it.

It’s never easy navigating through a conflict. Whether with a close friend, a family member, a stranger working at customer service, or a colleague, it never becomes easy. As we mature, we fool ourselves into thinking that with age and experience (whatever this experience is), we’ll get better at it and handle clashes with finesse.

Two years ago, when I had just returned to London from a couple of months spent in lockdown with my parents at home in Bulgaria – which also happened to be a few days before my twenty-third birthday – I wrote the below list of lessons. Two years ago, almost at the age of twenty-three, I thought I had learned these lessons very well, and what seemed to be more important to me at the time was that I had learned them the hard way.